The Invitation
by badwolf0924
Summary: SuperWhoLock- Based off a Tumblr post: The Winchesters, Cas, The Duplicate Doc and Rose, Sherlock and John, they all get an invitation to a mysterious location in London; once there, their lives are changed by a simple transportation to an alternate dimension.
1. Chapter 1

**This is based off of a Tumblr post I saw a while ago... Enjoy!**

* * *

The streets were packed with rushing people, milling about on their way here and there. They were hurrying to work, or school; taking their children to the doctor, and running errands that they'd put off until the last possible minute. Cars honked as lights turned green and they couldn't wait a second longer to go on about their way.

In the flurry of rushing people, no one stopped to look at the seemingly normal person strolling slowly, not in a hurry, not with intent. Just passing by the shops with one hand in their pocket; the other one was full of letters. There weren't many, just three. Three letters to be mailed. They found their destination at last, and stopped before it.

A large blue mailbox, sitting along the side. It was hardly used anymore, who sends letters in this day and age. It had grown accustomed to receiving last minute bills and forced holiday cards. Well wishes and instant rebates. It longed for the days of yesteryear when people would use it multiple times a day, for heartfelt letters filled with longing and love. It now had to settle for generic _Merry Christmas's_ and money notes.

Never in its years spent rusting on the street, had this blue mailbox receive something as unprecedented as what was about to be shoved into its opening. Three letters, for three separate parties. Three letters to bring them all together. Three letters... _But from who_?

* * *

 _London, Heathrow Airport_

"Why did we have to take a plane?" The sick, yet calming down, angel swallowed as he followed the brother's Winchester out of the gate. His trench coat swished around him as he walked, his feet dragging against the floor. He breathed in through his nose, not something that he necessarily _needed_ to do, but it helped to ease his queasy stomach.

"Because you can't actually fly anymore, buddy." Dean smiled sadly at him as he looked at him over his shoulder. He was leading them to baggage claim where they'd collect their duffles and be on their way.

Sam Winchester wasn't paying attention to his brother or their friend, he was still staring intently at the envelope in his hands. A little over a week ago they'd received this random letter at the P.O. Box they use in Lebanon. He wasn't even sure how, whoever it was, got their information.

It was a small yellowing square, some type of fancy stationary that had been forgotten for a while in the bottom of a drawer. Or at least that's how it seemed. There was no return address, just a mass of stamps from where it'd been sent. It was addressed to Winchesters & Co.; which these days meant the two of them and Castiel.

The message inside was brief, a set of coordinates and a date, along with a time. It ended with: _Be there or be square_. Dean had laughed and almost thrown the thing out. Sam however took it seriously and looked up the set of numbers, which led them to London, England. There's a first time for everything they'd figured. Against the angel's warnings, they decided to go; it had been a long time since something of import had happened to them, they'd grown complacent.

"What time do we have to be there again?" Castiel groaned, he sounded tired. It worried Sam, angels didn't get tired, but Cas seemed to, all the time.

"Uhh-" Dean reached over and yanked the letter out of Sam's hands, opening it and staring down at the card stock, "Noon tomorrow." He said before shoving the papers back together and handing them back over to his brother.

"Alright." Cas said, "We should find a hostel for the night." He rolled his shoulders slightly, Dean agreed with a grunt, still Sam said nothing, staring back at the papers in his hand. His brother had been careless when he took it, there was a small tear in the side. He wasn't sure why it bothered him so much, but the sight made his eye twitch.

They reached baggage claim, got their bags, and set out on their way. The row of black cabs waiting to take people away made Dean eerily giddy. He yipped slightly and ran forward to grab one. Sam and Cas exchanged a fond glance and followed him with small smiles. They climbed in after Dean, Cas sat next to him, their backs to the driver, Sam across from them.

"Don't none of you tell Baby I'm cheating on her." Dean said, suddenly very serious as he stared at his brother and best friend. They nodded in slight confusion and Dean's smile returned shortly thereafter.

They directed their cabbie to Northern London, to find a hostel or cheap hotel near the place their coordinates had directed. Some place called Walthamstow, some place neither Winchester had heard of. Of course Cas knew about it and gave them the history. Dean had fallen asleep during that lesson while Sam drank it all in.

The three of them found cheap lodgings for the night and filed into the halls of the hostel, heading for their room. It had bunk beds, not something they'd ever slept in, but it would work for one night. Sam could fit on the bottom bunk of one if he curled in on himself. It would do.

He pushed out of the room to find an ice machine, or a vending machine; a machine of any sort really. He found one that luckily accepted credit cards, they hadn't thought to switch their dollars over for pounds yet. They were only going to be there for one night, so what was the point?

On his way back with an arm wrapped around plastic covered goods, he bumped into a girl. She was short, blonde, pretty. She stood with purpose when their shoulders brushed, like she was ready for anything. Then their eyes met and her guard was dropped slightly, she turned to him as she kept walking, she only stumbled a little. Sam stuttered a bit in his steps as well.

"Sorry." She said, "Wasn't payin' attention." Her accent was thick, she smiled up at him and he smiled back.

"It's alright." He said, she nodded and stepped around him. He turned to watch her go, and his vision blurred slightly. He shook it off and continued on his way back to the room.

He slammed the door behind him, Dean and Cas hardly looked in his direction from where they were gathered around a computer. He threw the acquired goods on a table and fell into his bunk, the letter in his hand once more, he continued to stare. He stared as though looking at it longer would reveal its secrets; as though it would tell him who sent it and where it came from. He looked for clues along its textured surface, but still came up with nothing. He stared until his lids began to droop and visions of blonde hair danced before his eyes. He fell asleep thinking of soft curves and bright smiles, the soft sounds of talking lulled him into a deep slumber.

* * *

"We aren't sure what we might face tomorrow." Castiel said warily, as he glanced over his shoulder to find Sam had fallen fast asleep, the letter clutched in his hand. He looked back to the elder Winchester who hadn't averted his eyes since Cas looked away.

"I know, but what can't we beat when we're together, Cas." Dean sounded oddly optimistic, it confused the angel, but he wasn't about to try and bring the hunter down when he was in such a good mood. He preferred a smiling Dean to a frowning, or even yelling one. He would take happy Dean over angry Dean any day, "I'm beat, I'm gonna get some sleep." He said, moving to lay down on his bunk, leaving Cas sitting alone at the small table in the room.

"I'll watch over you." Castiel said, it was a habit; he awaited the backlash, but it never came.

"I know you will, bud." Dean merely grumbled as he pounded his pillow into the shape he wanted and wriggled until he got comfortable. Castiel sighed and watched as his breathing turned from small, shallow, uneven breaths to deep and drawn out ones. He was asleep, and Castiel was alone with his thoughts. He stared out the window, across London, wondering what was going to happen next.

* * *

The next day they all got up and set out for the location. It turned out to be an old abandoned theatre. It was boarded up, but not too run down from the looks of it. Once they busted their ways inside, it wasn't as dark as they'd expected it to be; someone had gone through the trouble of setting up flood lights and large shop lights in its interior. It lit up the old, peeling wallpaper and the flaking ceiling. The dust along the fixtures sat untouched for years.

There were symbols spray painted everywhere, Dean paid close attention to be sure a Tulpa sign wasn't anywhere to be found, they didn't need an extra surprise. He stowed his handy dandy flashlight in his back pocket and eyed Cas and Sam before pushing through the large double doors past the concession area.

The main theater was huge; it sat over a thousand people, easy. The floor was carpeted and lined with hundreds of small LED push lights. The three hunters proceeded with caution when they saw two silhouettes turn and look in their direction when they entered.

"It seems we're not the only ones invited." The taller, baritone voiced stranger said.

"How do you know they're not the ones who invited us?" The shorter, tenor one replied.

"Oh, please, John. It's obvious whoever sent the invitations has a dramatic flare; they wouldn't enter from there." The man turned to the stage, "They're going to enter there!" He splayed out his hands and presented the main stage, which did happen to have a dropped curtain. All the lights along the edge were lit as if ready to light up a production.

"Alright." The man relented, "So there are other... Guests."

"It would seem so." Sam said, smiling, slightly wary, as they approached the two men. Dean felt his gun at the back of his jeans, holding the hilt like a safety blanket.

"Interesting." The tall one said, "American."

"Yes." Castiel replied, "And you're Londoners."

"Yes." The tall one tilted his head and stared at Cas quizzically, his eyes narrowed and flicking every which way.

"Wait, I know you!" Sam burst out, interrupting the man's weird action, "You're Sherlock Holmes, that super detective-" He looked to the short one, "Which means you must be John Watson, his blogger."

"And friend." John added, reaching his hand out to Sam, who took it eagerly. Dean rolled his eyes at his nerd of a brother, "You are?"

"I-I'm Sam Winchester, this is my brother Dean-" He waved awkwardly, "And our friend, Castiel."

"Charmed." John smiled and held his hand out to Cas, who stared at it confused until Dean elbowed him and he remembered to shake it. Sherlock's lips quirked up a bit when he saw this; Dean hoped he wouldn't bring it up later. He really didn't want to have to explain the supernatural to these guys. Though perhaps, being investigators, they already knew.

"So, any theories?" Sam asked the detective, eagerly.

"Only about twelve, so far." Sherlock replied, seeming almost bored, Dean rolled his eyes at the non-chalance, but Sam seemed to drink it in, "We were just about to have a look on the stage, however, so that number is bound to change." He moved to head for the stairs, but John grabbed his arm and cleared his throat, an obvious signal. Sherlock turned back around and straightened his jacket from where John grabbed it, "If you wanted to join us..." He side eyed John who nodded, Dean nearly laughed at the exchange, it was familiar, somehow.

"We would!" Sam answered hurriedly, jumping at the chance to join his apparent hero. Dean shook his head, they were going to investigate anyway, why not bring along some famous detective. They were all making a move toward the stage when the doors opened once more and another two people shuffled in.

"Ah, see, I told you we wouldn't be the only ones." A man said in a rather pleasant voice. Dean noticed Sam stiffen slightly as the two drew nearer, and also saw the flick of the blonde girl's eyes. Did they know each other?

"Yes, you were quite right. Good for you." She smiled at him and he grinned back cheekily. She turned from the man to the rest of them, "Hello, I'm Rose Smith, this is my husband, John." He waved, his grin still wide.

"John Smith?" Dean asked, snorting, "Seriously?"

"What can I say, I had unoriginal parents." He shrugged it off, he'd probably heard the same disbelieving tone his whole life.

"Pleasure to met you John, I'm John-" Watson said, stepping forward, his hand extended; Dean was surprised by this guys politeness, "Watson, though. A bit more original." He smiled as the man took his hand.

"Oh, John Watson?" Smith exclaimed, eyes wide, smile growing again, "And I supposed you're going to tell me that the man in the trench coat with the calculating stare is Sherlock Holmes." He laughed as if it were a joke, which Dean found odd. He looked to who the man meant; he'd motioned to Cas.

"Actually-" The real Sherlock stepped forward, "That'd be me. Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective." His hand wasn't held out, but smith took it anyway, shaking it vigorously.

"Sherlock Holmes, as I live and breathe!" He laughed a small chuckle and looked to his wife, brows raised, who was holding back her own smile.

"Who are you three, then?" She asked, eyes flicking to Sam again, "Baker Street irregulars?" Smith laughed again, Dean saw Castiel's glare intensify. His head was tilted, which could only mean that something was off about this pair.

"The what?" Watson was smiling with confusion, as if there was some joke he wasn't quite in on, but wanted to be.

"Nothing, sorry." Rose shook her head, tightening her lips in an obvious effort to stay serious.

"I'm Dean, that's Cas and that's Sam." Dean listed them off, pointing to the others, "Welcome to the party. Now, Sherlock, you said something about going back stage?"

The detective was obviously grateful to have the show back on the road and he smirked, "Yes, I believe I-"

"What _universe_ are you two from?" Castiel asked suddenly, making everyone stop and stare at him.

"Pardon?" Watson asked, "What did he just say?" He looked to Dean, who felt a knot in his stomach, he opened his mouth to answer, but quickly shut it again.

"I asked what universe these two are from. They're not from ours; that much is obvious. And they knew of Sherlock and John, but didn't know what he looked like... But they're from London, so I'm assuming that's highly unlikely..." Sherlock stared at Cas in surprise, and then his eyes began flicking back and forth, as though he was going over the evidence himself, his brow was furrowed in frustration.

"So you've _deduced_ -" He looked to Rose briefly, she rolled her eyes, "That we're from another universe?" Smith's voice became slightly nervous, "Is that all you've to go on?"

"Well-" Castiel looked at Dean before he continued, as if to ask permission to expose himself for what he was. Dean shrugged and Castiel turned back to the couple, "You're not fully human."

"How do you-" Rose elbowed her husband as Watson's voice interrupted with yet another, "Pardon?"

He licked his lips and stepped forward, his fingers rubbed together in a way that told Dean that this man also had a gun he kept as a security blanket. He was itching to touch it for reassurance.

"He's not human." Cas repeated, "His soul is strange. Golden, unlike any I've ever seen; but then again, hers also has the same slight golden sheen to it. Like they've touched something that no on else has. It's also-"

Cas' explanation was interrupted by a symphony of "His soul!?" followed by an astounded, "My soul?"

"Yes, your soul." Castiel replied plainly, as if it were obvious that he could see souls.

"I have a soul?" He asked, a small smile growing on his face again.

"Of course." The angel replied.

"And you can see it?" Watson asked, Cas turned to him, confused.

"Of course." He chorused.

"So-" Smith furrowed his brow and lifted his head as he stepped forward, as if to observe Cas, "What exactly are you? Used to be a time I could identify any breed at the drop of a hat. Not anymore. Can barely tell what year I'm in by the flavor of the wind."

It all sounded like gibberish to Dean, and apparently to everyone else as well. Save for Rose, Cas, and Sherlock, who snorted.

"The two of you are making absolutely _no_ _sense_." Watson said, huffing slightly as he turned to Sherlock who was starting to laugh.

"Doctor, maybe we should go." Rose said softly; Smith, or Doctor, sighed and stepped back, lacing his and Rose's fingers together.

"Doctor!?" Sherlock exclaimed suddenly before groaning, "Oh God, not as in _the_ Doctor?" The man stood taller and squared his shoulders, his jaw clenching.

"Who's _the Doctor?_ " John asked him, looking between the two men, his fist flexing.

"I read about him in a file I stole from Mycroft; I was thoroughly interested until I saw the word 'extraterrestrial' and realized it was a hoax strategically placed because Mycroft knew I'd open it. Probably was tired of me stealing his cases." Sherlock sounded increasingly bored as he explained himself, Dean wanted to punch him.

"Mycroft." The supposed Doctor laughed, turning to look down at Rose, "The British Government has a file on me... I blame your father."

"Probably the work of Torchwood." Rose responded, it all still sounded like gibberish to Dean.

"Yes, which exists because of your father." He shook his head and turned back to the group, "Anyway, getting off topic! Sorry!" He looked at the angel, Dean's heart sped up minutely, "I'd like to know what species you are, Castiel. Coordinates! This is exciting." His jaw snapped closed, and he smiled at Cas.

"Uh..." Cas replied, brow furrowed in confusion, "I'm not sure what you mean?"

"Oh you know! Location in the universe, galaxy, home planet! All the details! It's really been too long." He looked at Rose as he said the last statement, she nodded, her eyes brightening a bit.

"Planet Earth? Heaven?" Cas said, looking briefly at Dean for an answer. Dean shrugged, this guy was obviously a psycho, one the hunter couldn't wait to get away from.

"Heaven? Not sure I've heard of-" He stopped and sucked in a breath, "Oh, oh you don't mean-"

"I'm an angel of the Lord." He stated, from behind them, Sherlock started laughing. It started as a small giggle and soon turned into a fit of hysterics; they all turned and stared.

"Is he ok?" Dean asked John Watson.

"I-I have no clue, I haven't seen him like his in a long while; I think he might be broken." John furrowed his brow with worried confusion as he turned to his friend, "Sherlock? Care to share with the class?"

"It's-just that-" Sherlock spat between deep breaths as he tried in vain to regain his composure, "Castiel-he said he can see the man's soul-the man who, according to my brother's files, is an alien! And it's golden, and a bit off! Do we all have souls? Is mine purple with blue polka dots?" He continued to laugh and they all stared a bit longer.

Dean felt Castiel tensed up next to him, no one liked being made fun of; the hunter suspected that the angel was no different.

"Sorry." Sherlock finally breathed deeply and stood up straight, wiping away his tears. John's jaw clenched as he looked at him.

"Good?" He asked, Sherlock nodded.

"Thank you for the laugh, you're clearly all insane. Have a nice day." He pushed through the group to make his way to the exit, John made no move to follow.

"Come on, John!" Sherlock called back to the shorter man, who was about to follow before a voice rang through the theater. It was deep, gravelly, British, and annoyingly familiar.

"If everyone would kindly shut up and sit down, the show will be starting shortly." They all looked at one another, Rose was the first to pull John by his hand to the rows of seats. Sherlock reluctantly returned and sat next to his John. Dean was the last to sit, choosing an aisle seat that Cas left open next to him. He took his gun out of the back of his jeans and sat down, fidgeting with the cold metal on his lap.

As soon as they were all seated, a spotlight clicked on. He saw Sherlock turn in search of it's source, the room was near silent as the sound of the curtains being drawn back echoed around them.

Dean's shoulders tensed as he saw who was standing int he middle of the stage; it was exactly who he expected it to be: the person he knew the voice belonged to.

"Crowley." He heard Castiel hiss next to him, and he found himself placing a hand on the angel's arm, as if he could stop him from going up there.

"Hello all. Old faces and new. Welcome, thank you all for coming. My name is Crowley, and I'll be ruining your lives today." He saw the king nod to someone and after a small commotion from the seats beside them, saw two henchmen appear around the King of Hell, holding Rose and Watson.

Dean was in the aisle seat, and as such, saw himself most fit to go up there and get them. He moved to get up but felt a hand on his arm.

"No, Dean, it's what he wants. He wants one of us to go up there to retrieve the hostages." Cas said, his eyes pleading for Dean to stay. He felt his stomach drop at the sight but swallowed the dryness in his throat. He placed his free hand on Castiel's and smiled sadly.

"I can't let them get taken." Dean said, and he felt Cas' grip release. He raised his gun and walked toward the stage, "Crowley, let them go, you don't have to do this."

"You don't even know what I'm going to do yet, former bestie." Crowley's response was sassy, exactly what Dean hated most about him, his smugness.

"I know it aint gonna be good." Dean replied, nearing the stairs.

"Please, come on up, Dean. There's room enough for you." Crowley snapped his fingers and suddenly Dean was on stage, the short teleportation was enough to throw him off balance and before he knew it, the world around him had gone black.

His back slammed against the ground and he lost all ability to breathe. His chest ached as he tried in vain to draw in a breath, but the pain subsided as quick as it had come and he was able to suck in air. He sat up, the room they were in was dim, but not dark. There were dusty computers, ruined wires, a white wall, it was dreary to say the least.

"No!" He heard shouting, it was Rose, "No, no, no! Not again! I can't do this again! Not now!" Her voice was nearing hysterics, and he heard John Watson trying to calm her down.

"Come on, Rose, come away from the wall." He tried to coax her back, Dean finally caught sight of them. Rose had leaned her forehead against the wall, John was at her side, one hand on her back, rubbing circles, the other one on her arm, trying to pull her away.

"What the hell happened?" Dean asked, standing up slowly, his head began swimming and he almost fell over.

"Be careful!" John said, "I'll have a look at you in a minute, right now-"

"What are you, some sort of doctor?" Dean asked, laughing at his own joke. Rose let out another sob.

"As a matter of fact, I am." Watson replied, "And I don't think using that word is going to help at the moment."

"Alright, my bad." Dean rolled his shoulders back and cracked his neck. He shook off the pain and headed straight for the two people at the end of the room. He took Rose by her shoulders, effectively pushing John away, and turned the crying woman around to face him, "Wanna tell me what's going on, sweetheart?" He tried his least creepy approach, it didn't seem to help; John sighed beside him, he looked to him and shrugged.

"We-" She sobbed once more before sucking in an unsteady breath, "We've been sent to another dimension, an alternate universe." Dean looked to John who seemed just as dumbfounded as he felt, he looked back to Rose, questions bubbling to the surface, but he only found himself capable of one word.

"Huh?"


	2. Chapter 2

**I really didn't mean to not update this at all. I'm the literal worst. Life happens, though, yknow? Here's a chapter!**

* * *

Castiel was the first to the stage, he'd managed to capture Crowley before he disappeared. The other three men were behind him, Sam had killed the two demons after a brief altercation, their lifeless and smoking bodies laid behind them. Sherlock and the Doctor were staring at them in awe. Castiel paid them no mind, he was too focused on the King of Hell before him.

"Where are they?" He growled, Crowley smirked and rolled his eyes.

"Sent them on a mini-vacation to an alternate universe." He said, Castiel almost released him from the surprise of that revelation.

"What?" Sam and the Doctor chimed simultaneously.

"Which one? Like the one where we're actors?" Sam asked, they all looked to him.

"No?" Crowley asked, "I didn't even know that was an option; we used the girl, Rose, as a catalyst."

"You sent them to the parallel universe that we're from originally." The Doctor said, waltzing up next to Castiel, his head tilted back, he looked at Crowley through his lashes. Sherlock was still standing next to one of the bodies.

"I suppose, it wasn't my idea." Crowley explained.

"Who's idea was it?" Cas asked, shoving his forearm into Crowley's throat more, though he knew the demon didn't need to breathe. It seemed, however, that the king was getting tired of Castiel's games and his eyes began to glow red.

" _Don't_ play with me, Castiel. If you're going to smite me, do so." He shouted, it was enough to make Sam and Sherlock stand at attention. He heard a gasp behind him and heard Sam muttering something to Sherlock, but Cas' attention was on the red eyed crossroads demon.

"Not until you tell me _who_ you're working with." He demanded, and was soon sent flying across the room. He landed beside the two deceased vessels. Crowley waltzed up to the angel, brushing off his jacket. He looked to Sam, who's blade was turned in his hand, he was ready for a fight. Sherlock was watching in shock and the Doctor was still standing where he was before.

"You're not as powerful as you once were, kitten." Crowley sighed and then looked to Sam, "Moose, see you later." And then he was gone. Castiel groaned as he sat up, he looked at the younger Winchester and then to the wide-eyed detective. A hand was held out to him, then, he looked up to find the Doctor reaching out to help him up. He took it and was pulled to his feet by the strange species.

"So what's the plan, Cas? How are we gonna get Dean back?" Sam asked after he'd had a moment to regain his composure.

"And John, where's John, we _must_ get him back." Sherlock finally spoke up, his eyes were wide with a sort of panic.

"I don't know." Castiel replied, looking to the Doctor, "Can you help them?"

"Me?" He asked, slightly incredulous, "I-I'm not, not anymore. I don't have the-No. I can't." He said sadly, running a hand through his hair, he looked to his feet, "This is rotten luck." He thumbed at his wedding ring and Sam let out an incredulous laugh.

"Yeah, tell me about it." He said, "Look, I don't know who you are, John, or Doctor, or whatever your name is. And Sherlock, I know you're a detective, but this is sort of mine and Cas' area. We'll suss it out." He held out his phone to the Doctor, "Give me your number, we'll call you when we figure things out."

Reluctantly the Doctor punched in his phone number, Castiel watched as he handed it back to Sam who then handed it over to Sherlock. Sherlock stared at the electronic device as though it was a personal offense.

" _Sam_ , you're a fan, right? Then you should know I will stop at nothing until I solve this case and find my friend." He still put his number into the phone and handed it back to Sam.

"All due respect, man, this isn't exactly a case." Sam said, "It's, well ok yeah, it's a case, but not a normal one. You're gonna encounter a lot of things you won't want to believe."

"Like the existence of angels and parallel universes? And Demon's with red eyes who can disappear in an instant?"

"Well, yeah," Sam shrugged, Sherlock laughed, shaking his head. It wasn't a pleasant laugh, but a slightly condescending one.

"Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth." Sherlock stated before pushing through Cas and the Doctor, he was headed for the exit. Sam hurried after him and Castiel looked to the Doctor who was grinning.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"Oh I'm ok, it's just, well, he said it. I can't believe he said it." He shook his head before his smile fell and he looked to Cas sadly, "I suppose we should go find my wife and your friend."

"We should," Castiel said, they hurried after Sam and the detective.

* * *

Dean sat with his back against the wall, his phone in his hands, he stared at it, willing it to receive a text or a call. Something to tell him that Rose was wrong, that they weren't in some alternate universe, that Cas and Sam were going to burst through that door any minute and tell them it was all some big mistake. But no calls came, no texts, nothing. No one came through the door, and John was still trying to calm Rose down while giving her a check up.

"Alright, not that her health isn't important, but do you think we could get out of this room," Dean asked, standing and shoving his phone into his pocket.

"Just a moment," John growled, he held up a finger to Dean and then went back to Rose, "I'm so sorry I couldn't see it before, how far along are you?"

"F-four months." Rose sniffed and then ran a hand through her hair, "The angel didn't say anything about that when he saw my aura, did he?"

"You soul." Dean cleared his throat and they both looked at him, heads tilted, "It isn't your aura he can see, it's your soul, and it's-" He shook his head, "Never mind, not important. Say, what universe did we get popped into? Cause if I'm an actor in this one, lunch is on me."

"What are you goin on about?" Rose asked, standing with the help of John's hand.

"I'm just askin which universe this might possibly be." Dean shrugged, tapping a computer beside him.

"I think-" Rose walked forward to the window and gasped slightly, "I think this might be my _normal_ one." John followed her to the window and looked out.

"Are we in Canary Wharf," He asked, smiling slightly, he looked around the room, "Not what I expected it to look like in here."

"Yeah well, that'll be from the Dalek/Cyberman invasion. They trashed the place," Rose said, she seemed a bit less sad, a bit more hopeful, Dean hoped it wasn't misplaced.

"So if this is the place you're from, do you know someone who could help us?" Dean asked, Rose bit her lip before smiling widely and nodding.

"Great, who?" John asked, Rose looked to him, eyes wide.

"Uh, the Doctor." John looked to Dean and they both furrowed their brows before looking back to Rose.

"You mean like the Doctor we just left behind in that other universe? Cause he aint gonna be much help here." Dean crossed his arms over his chest, but Rose didn't stand still, she pushed past him and headed for the door, they had no choice but to follow.

They made their way out of the office building and to the bustling London streets. People were going about their business, living their daily lives like there weren't three out of place inhabitants.

"The man I was with, my husband, isn't _the_ Doctor, he's a duplicate, a clone, if you will. Half human, half time lord." Rose explained as they walked at a quickened pace through the crowd.

"Alright," Dean said, though he didn't really understand what any of that meant, "So the real one is here?"

"Yes, I hope so," She said, "I just need to contact a few friends to see if they're still in contact with him. If they are, it'll make things a lot easier, if they're not, then we're going to be doing a lot of research."

They were headed for some Government buildings, Rose had her cellphone in her hand, and was scrolling through a few contacts.

"It won't work," Dean said, "I already tried to call Sam. No service, because my service provider doesn't exist here. Probably."

"What?" John exclaimed, pulling out his phone and turning on the screen like he'd been expecting there to be texts from Sherlock, "bollocks," He whispered, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

"I've got universal roaming, the Doctor may not have access to the technology of the TARDIS, but he knows how to build a sonic screwdriver." She said, holding her phone up to her ear, she hurried in front of them. Dean looked to John.

"Did you get _any of that_?" Dean asked, John sighed.

"It sounded like a lot of gibberish to me, and I have to listen to Sherlock's deductions," He said with a small sad smile, Dean decided the guy wasn't so bad.

* * *

They were all four piled into 221B, Sherlock was pacing back and forth, obviously trying to think up a solution, Sam was on his laptop, eagerly researching, Castiel sat next to the Doctor on the couch, they stared at the two other men in the room without a clue as to how they could help.

"So an angel?" The Doctor asked suddenly, quietly, as they watched the other two work.

"Yes," Cas replied, barely glancing sidelong at the Doctor, "And you're an alien."

"Indeed I am." The Doctor smiled sadly at his hands, "Half human, of course."

"That's where your soul comes from," Castiel stated simply.

"Yes my soul, you referenced it earlier. How can you see it?" The Doctor's tone was one of pure fascination.

"My father created them, so he of course gave us the ability to see them." Castiel tilted his head slightly, obviously pondering something, "Though I don't know how you have one, you're not from this universe."

"Maybe there's a god in my universe," Said the Doctor, though he was in a slight state of disbelief at that theory, "Though I have no clue what he was spending his time doing if he did exist."

"It is possible that my father also created your universe and left it to its own devices. For purely scientific reasons." Castiel shrugged and looked at the Doctor who was grinning.

"I like that idea, that's brilliant. A universe created specifically as a science experiment."

"If John were here, he'd say that sounds like something I would do." Sherlock cut into their conversation and they looked back at the hunter and the detective to find them both staring. Sherlock looked back at Sam who's mouth twitched into a small smile before the younger Winchester went back to his computer, his eyes focused on the screen.

"He'd be right." Sherlock muttered before he steepled his hands beneath his chin, abandoning his pacing in favor of standing completely still.

"Oh he's going into his mind palace now." The Doctor said excitedly.

"Shouldn't we be doing something as well?" Castiel asked, looking to the Doctor who shrugged.

"Don't know what we can do, really. I've no TARDIS and you don't posses the ability to travel between dimensions."

"Well I've never actually tried." Castiel responded.

"Try now?" The Doctor stated and Cas closed his eyes, focusing on finding Dean, but nothing happened, he stayed sitting on the couch in the dim sitting room of 221B Baker Street. He sighed and opened his eyes, shaking his head at the Doctor who smiled sadly, "Ah then, for now, we sit."

It was the most useless Castiel had ever felt.


	3. Chapter 3

**Dear Chuck, I'm so sorry... so if you guys still like this story, even though I've been a shitty person who was like, "LOVE THIS STORY AND THEN I'LL NEVER POST ANOTHER PART TO IT EVER AGAIN MUWAHAHAHAHA" here's another part to it.  
I don't need to tell yall that sometimes real life just gets in the way. Well real life has gotten in the way... BUT! Because today is 'Supernatural Day' I figured, why the hell not! **

**Also I just really wanted to write it. So here ya go. Another installment of this storryyy, I'll try not to be another year or something for the next one. Honestly, I suck. Sorry! :)**

* * *

From across the room, Sam smiled sadly at his computer screen, he could hear the entirety of Castiel and the Doctor's conversation. It hurt him that his friend wasn't able to help in this situation, but it was unlike any they'd faced before; and _that_ was saying a lot, considering they'd faced God's sister and won.

He was researching the possible existence of dimension hopping devices, but was coming across nothing save for failed experiments at high school science fairs, and engineering blueprints for possible future machines. It was clear that he was going to need to hack into some sort of government mainframe to find the secret ones. He looked up at Sherlock, wondering if maybe he had some access code to get into it, considering he was a consultant for large cases, often times on a government level.

"Can't you call Mycroft?" The Doctor asked suddenly, Sherlock opened one eye and groaned; Sam frowned, confused.

"Who's that?" Sam asked, Sherlock opened both eyes and rolled them dramatically.

"My _brother_ , who unfortunately occupies a large role in the British Government, so technically he could help." Sherlock tapped his fingers together where they were steepled beneath his chin, "Though I doubt he would."

"Why?" Sam couldn't comprehend why Sherlock's brother wouldn't help, they were family.

"Because his pig headedness wouldn't allow him to." Sam smiled at that, he'd called Dean plenty of similar names before. Sherlock must have been the younger brother.

"I'm sure if you explained to him the situation-" Sherlock held up a hand to cut Sam off.

"We are _not_ calling my brother."

"I was actually thinking that it would be helpful if I could access government archives, see if there's a successful dimension hopping device; Mycroft would probably have access to such files." Sam raised his brows, awaiting Sherlock's answer.

As he was about to open his mouth, there was creak in the stairs and they all turned, warily awaiting more demons, but an older woman entered with a tea tray.

"Sherlock Holmes, you must tell me when you have guests over!" She set the tray down on the coffee table and began pouring individual cups for everyone, "What sort of hosts will they think we are if we don't offer them tea?" She walked to the Doctor and handed him one, he grinned and thanked her, Castiel took his warily, pretending to take a sip. She set Sherlock's down beside him, apparently knowing he wouldn't take it from her and Sam stood from the table, taking his cup from her and smiling graciously.

"Thank you, ma'am," He said, and she held a hand to her chest.

"Oh dear, American's! How lovely!" She giggled and clapped her hands together, "I'll just go grab some biscuits!"

"Mrs. Hudson!" Sherlock's shout stopped her forward momentum, the Doctor 'ooh'd' from his seat, obviously recognizing the name, "We won't be needing the biscuits and would appreciate _no further interruptions_ , thank you."

"Alright, alright. So cranky when he hasn't eaten. Where's John? He was supposed to help me hang my new curtains." Sherlock sighed and glared in her direction, "Ok, leaving. Send him down when he gets back."

She quickly exited the room and went back down to her apartment, Sam frowned up at Sherlock who turned and picked up his tea, sipping it enthusiastically before setting back on the small table beside his chair. Sam smiled, realizing his over dramatic, uncaring attitude was just a facade for the softer side he wanted to keep hidden. Just like Dean. The memory of his brother's similar attitude reminded him to return to the task at hand.

He furiously worked his way into the mainframe of a government mandated engineering firm and began searching for projects that could possibly help one jump dimensions.

"Uh, Sherlock, I think I might have found something." Sam pulled Sherlock from what the Doctor referred to as his mind palace; the detective was at his side in an instant.

"What am I looking at, looks like blueprints." Sherlock said, reaching forward to scroll.

"Yeah it is, uh, I guess there's a government facility in the countryside, it seems like they focused mainly on biology until a few years ago when their focus switched completely to engineering. It's in a place called-"

"Baskerville." Sherlock finished, his eyes widening, Sam turned and stared.

"That's the place." Sam squinted at Sherlock, it was obvious this wasn't the first time he'd heard of this facility, "You've been there before."

"You could say I'm the reason their focus switched from biology to engineering."

"Ooh, like the _Hound of Baskervilles_?" The Doctor was suddenly behind them staring at the screen as well, Sherlock stood up straight, stiffly.

"How do you know about that?"

"I told you, _Holmes_ , where I'm from, you're a character in a series of crime novels and stories printed in The Strand magazine. _Hound of Baskervilles_ is one of my favorites. Not as good as _The Final Problem_ , though, admittedly." The Doctor had his hands in his pockets and was swaying back and forth from heel to toe, grinning wildly.

"The what?" Sherlock swallowed and turned fully toward the Doctor, his voice was slightly unsteady and his breathing was getting heavier.

" _The Final Problem_ , in which you and Professor Moriarty topple over Reichenbach Falls together."

Sherlock held up a finger, but instead of saying something, he simply walked away. He walked briskly through the flat, down the hall, to what could only be his bedroom, where he closed the door behind him.

"And now you scared him away." Sam sighed at his computer screen, running his hand through his hair, "You do know that there was a Moriarty here, in this universe, right? He forced Sherlock to fake his death. He jumped from the roof of Saint Bart's a few years back."

"Oh." Said the Doctor, sadly, "I hadn't heard about that."

"Exactly how long have you been in this universe?" Sam asked, closing his laptop. They knew where they needed to go now.

"We've been here since, well it was 2008 in our universe, but here it was about 2013. We spent a bit of time traveling the world, it was new for both of us, to travel by plane, in the present day. Quite a lot of fun. I suppose we could have just started working for Torchwood and that would have been that. But we didn't want that, or rather, she didn't want that for me." He sighed, his smile growing sadder by the word, Sam could feel his pain, knowing full well what it felt like to lose someone you loved. Though Rose wasn't lost completely, they didn't know yet if it would be possible to get her back.

"We'll do our best to get her back." Sam settled for an inspiring and positive comment, "We'll do our best to get them all back."

"Dare I ask," A voice from the doorway interrupted their talk, Sam, the Doctor, and Castiel all looked at the well dressed man, holding an umbrella, and smiling condescendingly at them all as he continued to speak, "What has my brother gotten himself into now?"

* * *

Rose led them through the streets, down back alley's that John had surely been through before, thanks to Sherlock. She led them from one apartment complex to the next, in search of something specific. John was about to ask where exactly she was taking them when she stopped and made an exclamation.

"Aha! This is it!" She ran forward into an apartment building, John looked at Dean, who seemed out of breath and shrugged, they had no choice but to follow.

"I've never really been a marathoner." Dean said as they followed Rose up a few flights of stairs, "Isn't she supposed to be pregnant? Why isn't she waddling?"

"She's only four months gone." John smiled and clapped a hand on Dean's shoulder as they ascended the last set of stairs. Rose was waiting for them before knocking. Her tongue was poking through her teeth as she smiled. She reached out and knocked on the door, nearly vibrating with excitement as they waited.

"Do you think whoever it is that you knew before still lives here?"

"Well that's the thing, I didn't really _know_ her before. I'd only met her a few times, suggested a book or two to her in the shop I used to work at. She knew my mate Mickey, though. They attended the same school when they were teenagers. Hopefully she still keeps in touch with him from time to time. _He's_ who I'm trying to find, but his number is different from the one I have for him, all I'm getting are wrong number messages when I call."

It felt like the longest time before a woman's voice on the other side called out that she was coming and the door opened. Before them stood a lovely young woman, her eyes were brown, her hair was brown, her smile was kind. She looked at them with slight confusion, but slight suspicion.

"Can I help you?" She asked, leaning her head against the doorframe. John noticed how tired she looked.

"Yeah, actually. You might not remember me, my name's Rose. I met you a few times through Mickey?"

"Mickey? Gosh haven't heard that name in years!" She laughed, her eyes squinted a bit as she focused on Rose; John noticed, thanks to years of working with Sherlock, the process she was making to try and recognize Rose. She was looking her up and down, focusing on her face, her hair, anything that might be a tell for who she is. Her eyes widened, she remembered.

"Oh, my goodness! Rose Tyler! _Of course I remember you_! I thought you were gone?" She reached forward and pulled Rose into a hug, Rose huffed out a breath at the rough contact, but laughed and hugged back.

"It was just a mistake on the list of the dead," Rose said, clearly expecting that reaction, "Made taxes confusing for a few years."

"Come in, come in! I'll try and see if we can't ring Mickey. I'll make you a nice cuppa, as well." She turned and opened her door, they followed her in. Her apartment was cute, quaint, warm. Comfortable. John sighed as he sat on the couch, wondering what Sherlock was doing at that moment without them.

Their lovely hostess presented them with tea, John observed their surroundings, noting that there seemed to be quite a lot of blue in such a small space. He felt like he was in an ocean, but then, the blue was a bit darker, but it still made him feel like he was floating. Perhaps it was just a side effect of being in a different dimension.

"I'm so sorry Rose," Said their hostess, walking back into the room with her phone in her hands and a frown on her face, "He musta changed his number since I've seen him last."

"It's alright, was worth a shot." Rose shrugged, though John could see her shoulders slump in defeat, "Thanks for trying to help."

"My pleasure." She replied, standing quietly for a moment, as though pondering something, "I was on my way out, though, so-"

"Oh, course! Yeah, we'll get out of your way." Rose stood and brushed herself off, even though they hadn't been eating anything. They all walked to the exit together, the woman grabbed her purse on their way out the door. They headed down the few flights of stairs and to the exit of the building when they heard it, the whirring sound. Rose stood stalk still, her eyes wide, as did their hostess.

"Oh, he's early." She said, Rose turned to her.

"Sorry?" She asked, the girl laughed nervously.

"Nothin, uh, I'll see you around, yeah?" It was obvious this sound had an effect on the girl, she started hurrying toward the middle of the parking lot.

"Clara, wait!" Rose shouted, running after her. John couldn't believe his eyes as he looked from the two girls to the middle of the road where a blue box was appearing.

"What in the hell is that?" Dean voiced his thoughts exactly, they looked at each other and shrugged, running after the two girls.

"You know him?" Rose asked the girl, Clara, who was trying to keep her dress from blowing up due to the sudden wind that had erupted in the small area.

" _You_ know him?" She mimicked.

Rose opened her mouth to respond, but shut it again shortly after, the wind around them had stopped blowing and there were no more whirring sounds in the air. John's fists clenched at his side and he could see Dean place a hand on his back, most likely on a firearm, as they waited for whatever was inside the blue box to open the door.

After what felt like an eternity, it creaked open and a man in a purple tweed jacket stepped out, grinning maniacally.

"Clara! Are you ready for adventure, I certainly hope so, or you'll force me to frown until you are. I see you have friends, lovely to meet you all, but I'll be taking Clara off your hands now, and-" He stopped abruptly as he approached to two women, John watched as realization dawned on his face and he looked at Rose once, then twice, then a third time.

Rose stared up at him in disbelief, as he stared back at her in utter confusion. It took a moment, but soon they were both grinning. He surged forward and pulled her into a hug and she laughed as he picked her up and spun her.

"Rose! Rose Tyler! Oh I can't believe it's you. How are you, why, what's, where's-"

"I don't know, Doctor!" She laughed, "You look so different, so young!" She brushed his hair out of his face and smoothed a hand over his bowtie.

"Wait a sec," Dean interrupted, they all stared at him, "Who's that?"

"It's the Doctor." Rose confirmed, she walked over to John and Dean and grabbed their hands, pulling them over to the man who most certainly wasn't a clone of the guy in their other dimension. Clara was still standing in stunned silence.

"That's not, I mean-" Dean looked to John for help, John shrugged, he was just as confused, "Is this, it's a new vessel, or? Is he like a _multi-dimensional wavelength of celestial intent_ , or somethin?"

"A what?" The Doctor laughed, "No, nothing like that, no. I've regenerated, Rose you really should keep your friends better informed. Speaking of well-informed friends, where is he?"

"Oh, right. He, uh, he's back in the other dimension. We sorta got... Sent here, by someone." She frowned up at him, John saw him instinctively grab her hand as a way to soothe her, but he was soon picking it up to look at it.

"Would you look at the size of that thing!" He exclaimed, closing one eye and dramatically moving her hand where her ring was back and forth in front of his face, "We have good taste, don't we!"

"Yeah, I s'pose y'do." Rose smiled sadly, "Is there any way you could help us get back? It's sort of important, yeah?"

"I can certainly try. I'm sure sexy won't mind."

"Sexy?" John asked, looking at Clara, she vigorously shook her head.

"No, no, not me. The TARDIS." She pointed at the blue box.

"I give up, what's a TARDIS?" Dean asked, the Doctor smiled mischievously, but Rose and Clara rolled their eyes.

"Come inside, you'll see." He backed away from them all in a dramatic fashion and turned toward the box, swiftly passing through the door, the two women followed, Clara first, Rose second, she turned and waved the two remaining men in.

"Shall we into the box?" John asked, Dean rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"Do we have a choice?"

"I don't think so." With a shared lack of enthusiasm to squeeze into a small box with other people, they pressed forward.


End file.
